Loooooong chapter. Yes, more Angel/Collins, but next chapter will be other characters, I promise.
I just had to get this out of the way first.
Now I'm going to go to bed, because 2,500 words made me exhausted.
x
When the sun seeped through the tiny window in Angel's room, she had never felt more like pulling the sheets over her head and going back to sleep. Usually, unless she had a hangover, when Angel woke up, she was looking forward to all the things she could do and get done in that day. But today, she wished she could wind time back a few hours and remain asleep. There was the sound of Collins knocking on the bedroom door. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, his soft side would get the better of him and he would leave her alone for the rest of the day? No such luck. Collins kept knocking. Angel put her head under the pillow in the hope of blocking out all sound and light, but it was too late. She was already wide awake and she knew it.
"Annngeelll...we have to go in thirty minutes..." came Collins's voice, muffled from the other side of the door. Angel wished there was a stop button somewhere. She would stop and go back to sleep, and go to the hospital when she felt like it, which would probably be never. Reluctantly, she shifted so that her arm hung over the side of the bed, and she could feel around on the floor for some clothes. Probably painfully normal clothes, seen as they were going to one of those places where six inch heels just wouldn't be appropriate. She groped around until she managed to get hold of jeans and a sweater. She managed to dress messily, all without moving her head from under the pillow.
"You never cease to amaze me..." came Collins voice, this time from inside the room. Angel jumped about half a mile and finally moved the pillow away from her face. She then threw it at Collins.
"You creep! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that...especially when I'm dressing, that's just wrong!" Collins just leant against the wall and laughed at Angel, happy that he finally got her to appear more awake. Angel just shook her head and sat up, tidying the sheets on the bed and kicking the spare clothes into a pile in the corner.
"How are you feeling about today?" Collins asked, handing Angel a cup of coffee and examining her expression with apparent concern. She took the cup and gave a blunt answer.
"Shit." Collins couldn't stop another smile creeping into the corners of his mouth. Even when she was pissed off, Angel never failed to make him smile a little. He sat on the bed next to her and raised a hand to her forehead, checking for fever and running his fingers through her short hair. "Cut it out..." she muttered, grinning and pushing Collins's hand away. "I'm feeling ok health wise, ironically enough. Just a bit nauseous, but I suspect that's just my nerves." Angel raised a shaped eyebrow at Collins and smirked, "In case you didn't guess last night, I hate hospitals. Had to go last year with Mimi, she OD'd and was really messed up. They treated us like something off the bottom of their shoes in that place. Especially when we told them why she was sick. By the look an their faces you would have though I'd said 'she's sick because she exhausted herself killing someone' Like getting sick is a crime." Angel shook her head and pulled on her shoes, handing an empty cup back to Collins, who set it down on the bedside table.
"They won't treat you like that Ang..." Collins began, interrupted by a doubtful laugh from Angel.
"Surely you went in for the tests, to find out if you were positive or not?" Angel passed an expectant look to Collins, who responded with a slow nod. "So you must have seen the response when those smug doctors give you the results. There's two different responses. The first is that they look at you like you're scum. Like you've just been found guilty for murder, or rape or something else disgusting. They want you out of the hospital before you can try and hit on them or something." Angel gave a little spiteful laugh, shocking Collins with her bitterness. "The second is worse I think. They give you the results, and they put on this 'I'm so sorry face' but underneath their eyes you can see that they're smiling. They take one look at you, especially if you're a guy, and they can sleep soundly at night knowing you'll be dead within a year, a month...a week." Collins frowned deeply and stopped Angel before she could carry on, upset by the negativity. He knew Angel was only trying to convince him against taking to her to the hospital, but the words she was saying still hurt him.
"Just leave it out. I said they won't treat you like that," Collins said firmly, putting on a strict tone to make Angel believe him. She didn't bother to argue, just shook her head to herself. Collins wondered what Mark and Roger would think, if they could see Angel acting like she was. But he knew that she would never act like this in front of them. She would be all smiles and fluffy bunnies when they stepped out of the bedroom. In a way, Collins understood, she couldn't stay happy forever, especially when she wasn't. He told himself that this was her day off from her job. Being the positive one in the group was her job.
As they approached the tall, white building, Angel buried her face in Collins's shoulder. The long journey seemed so much shorter when you didn't want to reach your destination. She felt like she would get the sick the moment she stepped through the glass doors. She did feel sick, but it was all nerves, she told herself anyway. Or it was the permanent sickness she felt since she had come down with something the week before.
"Ugh...Collins...honey...why does everything have to be gross color schemes?" She clutched at the sleeve of his jacket as they walked through the main entrance, Collins busy concentrating on finding his way around. "I mean...green and orange. Can we say clash?" Collins didn't reply, so Angel just continued to complain to herself, shuddering at the slightest thing. There was a lot of aimless wandering before Collins found the waiting room they were looking for, and talked to the woman at the desk. Angel sat down on a stiff, orange, plastic chair, and folded her arms moodily. Several women looked up from their three-month-old magazines when she gave a loud sigh. They stared at her rudely, and Angel was greatly tempted to say something that would get both her and Collins kicked out of the hospital. But she pursed her lips, and waited for Collins to finish with the secretary. When he sat down in another of the stiff, orange, plastic chairs, Angel turned to him immediately.
"Collins...why is everyone staring at us like that?" She whispered quietly, only further provoking more of the probing stares. Collins gave an off hand shrug.
"They're wondering whether you're single or not...well we better sort that question out..." Collins leaned over and kissed Angel gently on the lips. Instantly, the room was alive with disapproving gasps, tsks and sighs of annoyance. Angel couldn't help but blush and giggle, enjoying a few seconds of happiness before deciding that she needed to visit the bathroom, due to a sudden rush of nausea.
"Ugh...I'll right back...I need to find the bathroom," Angel stood up a little shakily, feeling a dizzy spell come on suddenly. Collins put his bag on Angel's seat to save it, and looked up at her, giving a wink.
"And I'll join you there in a couple of minutes, right?" He grinned, and was responded with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
"If you really want to see me throw up, then sure...and if you do, I reeeaaally don't think we should be together..." Angel joked, giving him a toothy grin. "I'll be right back honey..." Collins was left alone with only an array of horrified women for company.
Angel stood and stared at herself in the mirror. She ran a finger along her cheekbones, which were becoming more visible every day, a hollow developing beneath them. She stared deeply, at the shadows under her eyes, her thin lips. She could see bruises all up her arms, on her legs when she pulled up her jeans. Bruises that were just from normal contact, but her body refused to heal tiniest knock, so they just kept building up. Purple smudges dotted on her skin, streaking up her ribs when she dared to lift up her sweater. Angel pulled her gaze away, splashing water on her face and preparing herself to sit with Collins again.
"Ok...now do you get pain in any particular area?" Asked the doctor, poking several points in Angel's face, making it difficult for him to get an answer out. Collins watched with amusement from a chair next to the bed that Angel was sat on. Apparently, she didn't take too kindly to being poked and prodded by some guy that she didn't know. Especially one whose breath smelt like bad coffee, as Angel had informed Collins when the doctor had stepped out of the room to get something else to poke Angel with.
"Well...my nose hurts when you keep poking it-" Angel began, but was cut short by Collins pinching her hand from where he was sat. He did this every time that Angel started to say anything mildly rude to the doctor, which was surprisingly often. She sighed, and wondered if he meant internal pain, like lungs or stomach or whatever, or pain on the skin, like from those hundreds of bruises. Angel had managed to avoid revealing any of them to Collins. She had been sleeping alone every night for the past week, so Collins hadn't had a chance to see them, plus it would be dark anyway. She knew that Collins would freak out if he say those bruises, he would want Angel wrapped up in cotton wool for the rest of her life. She took a breath and realised she hadn't properly answered the doctor's question. "Um...not really...I get a pain in my stomach when I'm sick sometimes, but I think its just because I'm giving my stomach muscles a tough time..." Angel joked, although the doctor didn't notice, he just walked across the room to check the notes that sat on his desk. He scribbled something on a piece of paper, put his pen behind his ear, and turned back to Angel.
"Right, can you take your shirt off Mr Schunard." Angel could have easily picked one of many dirty jokes that were forming in his head, but instead he was occupied with what he had just been asked to do. Collins would see. Angel knew she would never hear the end of it if Collins say the state that she was truly in.
"What?" Angel asked dumbly, hoping that delaying it might mean that Collins suddenly went blind or decided he needed to use the bathroom really bad.
"I need to take a look at your stomach...if that's where you're getting pain..." Angel took a breath and prepared herself for a tough reaction. She slowly pulled her sweater over her head, trying to pretend she couldn't feel Collins suddenly tightening his grip on her hand. True, she wasn't a pretty sight. For a start, she was a whole lot slimmer than she had been a month ago, the raking lines of her ribs were clearly visible through her skin, patterned with purple bruising where skin was even thinner and more delicate than everywhere else. There was a big greeny purple mark along the side she had slept on the night before. There was a spot, just below her waist, where she had hit her side on the edge of the kitchen counter. Usually, something like that would just cause a small bruise, but there was a huge dark patch, almost black with color. The doctor didn't say anything, just hummed and poked a couple of the bruises, making Angel flinch.
"I think you're okay..." said the doctor quietly, moving back over to his desk to scribble a few more notes. Angel hurriedly pulled her sweater back on, not even daring to look Collins in the eye.
"Ok...that's cool..." She said quietly, picking her bag off the floor. "So what's been up with me then?" The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose and studied his notes.
"Just a little infection...your body is managing to fight it. Just do your best to help your body out, take care not to get too cold, too hot, drink plenty of liquids." He leaned over and handed Angel a little slip of paper. "There is a prescription for antibiotics anyway, just to be safe. You pick that up from the Chemists downstairs." Angel felt a wide grin spread across her face when she was realised it was as simple as taking some medicine.
"Thank you so much!" She trilled, almost as if the doctor was responsible for what her body was managing to do. There had been a moment, that morning, when Angel had been certain that she was going to receive a death sentence of sorts. But she just had to rest. Rest and take medicine.
"It's no problem," smiled the doctor, who had been generally relaxed about the whole thing. "If you start to feel seriously ill, you must admit yourself though. You can never be too safe." Angel gave an understanding nod, although she was making a vow inside her head that she would never have to step foot in a hospital again, because she had survived this time.
Despite Angel's good news, the journey home was a silent one. Collins didn't say a word regarding the hospital, the good news, even the bruises. He just sat there, eyes on something in the subway that was invisible to Angel. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore, grabbed his arm and shook him.
"I'm glad you convinced me to go sweetie...I feel much better now that I know I will be just fine." Angel watched him expectantly, but there was no reply, or sign that he had even heard her. "Aren't you glad?" She prompted, shaking him again. Collins turned his head to look at her, his eyes full of something that she just couldn't understand.
"Of course I'm glad..." he said softly. "It's just that this isn't the end of this. The problem is still there, just subdued." Angel bowed her head and concentrated on her fingernails, which were looking horrible lately.
"Well we'll just have to live with our problems."
"We can't live with them, that's the point."
Angel reached over and grasped his hand.
"We're doing pretty good so far."